Behind These Hazel Eyes
by ArmidaLore01
Summary: Soulmate AU. In a world where 'heterochromia iridis' grants you the ability to find your destined other half, Morgan is shocked but altogether pleased with his result. Morgan/Reid


Inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr. Second piece of fluff I'm uploading because my friend was begging me to (even though she had a different idea in mind that will be coming later) and because I really need an outlet for the current stress of college. In a perfect world, the whole Carl Buford thing does not exist, so the universe of this story doesn't include Morgan's past trauma.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds or the concept in which I based this soul mate AU on.

.

.

They say there was a handful of the human population that was gifted with the ability of discovering their soul mate. The process by which this occurs was by means of _heterochromia iridis_, or having two irises of different colors. Everyone starts life with what is called their "birth colors," or the original shade of the person's irises from the day they were born. When a person turns 18 years of age, if they were one of the ones gifted with this power, one of their irises will shift and change into the shade of their soul mate's birth colors. The way to uncover their soul mate is the meeting of the eyes, their true eyes. Upon catching each other's sight, a pair of soul mates' eyes will revert back to their birth colors.

However, there were some, such as Derek Morgan, who simply were not prepared to find out who they were destined to be with for the rest of their lives. People like Morgan hid their heterochromia from the world, aided with colored contacts so as to appear like a normal individual. He had everyone fooled, dark brown contacts, almost the exact shade as his birth color, coating his irises, one of which being a dark emerald shade. He just didn't want to find out yet.

But of course, fate and destiny were always at play, regardless of whether or not Morgan wanted it to be, and it was all set into motion one day when they boarded the jet to head to Los Angeles, California on a possible serial killer case.

Hotch and JJ, along with Garcia via webcam, assisted with the briefing of the case. "27-year-old Sarah Wilcox was found last night by her next door neighbor inside of her apartment after the neighbor reportedly heard 'suspicious noises.' At first he believed that it was a late night tryst, since Sarah was apparently quite the famous gal for that, but then when he went to tell her to knock off the noise, he discovered that the door was open and Sarah's body was lying on the floor of her living room. The window was open to the fire escape, so the killer escaped before he arrived," Garcia said, as JJ began handing out the case files to each of her teammates.

"The other victims have the same victimology?" Morgan asked.

"Only thing truly connecting these victims, it seems, are the facts that their eyes were all cut out, and quite brutally too," JJ answered, her lips pursing together as she examined the picture of the crime scene. "Other than that and the fact that the killings have all remained within the general vicinity of Los Angeles, there is no other apparent connection as of right now."

"Ohh, looks like her eyes were _gouged _out," Prentiss said, mouth twisting in disgust as she took out the close-up.

"Bruises and rope burn around the oral region and wrists indicate that she was gagged and tied," Reid commented.

"Same as the other victims," Hotch said. "There were no eye witnesses to the other two murders?"

"No one reported seeing or hearing anything at the first two," JJ said. "The only witness testimony we have is Sarah's neighbor. Victim number one was 33-year-old Riley Greene, a teacher at the local high school, and victim number two was 42-year-old Gabrielle Collins, a chef."

"He's jumping between age ranges and preferences," Rossi observed. "Blonde, redhead, brunette, brown to gray eyes, different jobs, different social statuses, different lives. Classic disorganized killer."

"But why would he take their eyes?" Morgan frowned. "It's consistent with every victim, regardless of the fact that their lives weren't similar by any means, it was the eyes he was after. Why did he take them?"

"Eyes are symbolic in literature to be the 'windows of the soul' to a human being," Reid piped up from where he sat next to Morgan. "It's actually the general theory as to how the process of finding your soul mate via _heterochromia iridis _works."

"Hopefully when we get there, we'll be able to dig up some more information," Hotch said. "JJ and I will talk to the families of the victims at the station; Rossi and Morgan, you'll both head over to the crime scene; and Prentiss and Reid, you'll find out what else you can from the medical examiner."

"Alright, my darlings, I just wanted to let you all know that I managed to book each of you a room at the inn right around the corner of the LAPD," Garcia chimed in.

"Thanks, Garcia," Prentiss called, sliding her file into her travel bag.

"Be safe, my loves," Garcia said before signing off.

For the most part, the team remained at the front of the jet, slipping into normal conversation. Reid silently stood and walked over to the couch near the back of the jet, the strap of his satchel hanging off his shoulder. Morgan moved to follow him, claiming the seat at the very back. He sunk into the comfortable leather chair and untwisted the cord of his iPod headphones. As he did this, he cast a glance over at his companion, and frowned when he noticed Reid rubbing irritably at his eyes.

"Hey, pretty boy," he called, catching the attention of his friend. "You alright there?"

"Yeah," Reid replied, waving away Morgan's concern. "Just my contacts. Got some new hazel ones about a week ago and I just haven't adjusted to them yet, I suppose."

Morgan raised his brows. "Wait... You-You mean that-"

"I'm one of the lucky few that has _heterochromia_ _iridis_?" Reid finished, pressing his lips into a tight line as he nodded in near melancholy. "Yup. One day, I get to find my soul mate. I just... Would rather not find out just yet. It's not that I don't want to know, I do. But right now, I don't think I'm fit for a relationship, especially in our line of work."

Morgan nodded in complete understanding. "I hear you." He paused, leaned over to reach into his bag, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. Hands closing around the bottle, he straightened up and made sure he still had Reid's attention before tossing it towards him. Reid caught the bottle easily, inspecting it.

"Contact solution?" he inquired.

Morgan shrugged. "Whenever my contacts get dry or are messing with me, that helps wonders."

Reid's gaze snapped up. "You?"

"Yup," he said, popping the 'p.' "Like you, kid, I get the opportunity of meeting my soul mate one day as well. And also like you, I don't think I'm ready to know just yet."

"Huh," Reid said, a look of surprised wonder on his face at Morgan's revelation. "It's amazing, really. Did you know that out of the entire population of the United States of America, including the estimated amount of unregistered foreigners, only 19 percent are said to have the _heterochromia_ _iridis _ability? I thought the only other person I'd see to have this ability would be my soul mate, and yet here you are."

Morgan chuckled. "You and me both, kid."

Reid huffed out a laugh, stroking absentmindedly at the bottle of solution in his hands. "Well... Thanks, Morgan."

"Anytime, Reid," Morgan said, plugging in his headphones and settling back into his seat with a long sigh. The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes, the soft sound of R&amp;B in his ears, was Reid standing from the couch, twisting open the bottle of solution and walking toward the bathroom.

.

.

"Guys," Hotch announced as he walked into the conference room of the station. "I think I may have found a link."

Furrowed brows and curious expression met those words. Morgan slowly straightened up in his chair, focusing his attention on the unit chief.

"I spoke to Sarah Wilcox's family again," Hotch said, and Morgan winced. Upon their return to the station once they completed the tasks Hotch set out for them to do, they were met with a muffled scream of agony coming from one of the interview rooms. Startled, they had set out to find the source when they were stopped by JJ.

"It's Mrs. Wilcox," JJ had told them somberly. "She didn't know."

Mr. Wilcox had not been much better, expressing all of his rage and grief toward Hotch, who had stood by with his arms crossed in front of his chest and unblinking eyes. They were downright uncooperative during the interview, so the team allowed for them to mourn for a while before attempting to try again.

In the meantime, another woman had been killed. The lapse of time between each murder was growing shorter and shorter, and the Unsub's method of killing was becoming more and more desperate in its execution. So Hotch had gone to try again, and it seemed he was successful.

"I was talking to Mrs. Wilcox," Hotch said. "She was telling me about how Sarah was, why she decided to move to Los Angeles from Phoenix, and she mentioned how Sarah had wanted to live her life before being 'tied down.' I remembered what Reid said on the jet about the eyes being 'windows to the soul' and how that's linked to _heterochromia_ _iridis_."

Prentiss jaw dropped. "She had the ability?"

Hotch nodded. "I had JJ speak to Riley's family, and I also spoke to Gabrielle's parents. They all confirmed that their daughters had heterochromatic irises, but that they were hiding it for similar reasons: wanting to live life before marriage or just being unprepared."

Morgan's heart dropped as he realized something. "Guys, what if our Unsub also carries the ability? That could be why he's taking the eyes from his victims."

Rossi tilted his head. "Makes sense. Perhaps he's trying to find his soul mate based on his birth color and the secondary iris, and when they don't take, he becomes overcome with rage and kills them. The eyes could be his trophy."

"But how is he finding his victims if they're hiding it?" JJ asked.

"The contact lenses."

All eyes turned to Reid, who was frowning at the table top. "What was that, Reid?" Prentiss said

"You could hide the heterochromia behind colored contact lenses," Reid said. "What if they're sharing the same optometrist that prescribes them their contacts?"

"I'll get Garcia on it," Hotch said, turning to walk out of the room. "Good work."

Morgan leaned over and affectionately ruffled Reid's hair in praise, and the younger man ducked out of his reach, smacking his offending hands away. He blushed with the attention, a joyful smile tugging at his lips.

.

.

Dr. Alexander Barham was arrested later that night. They dug into his patient files and uncovered two women with the same criteria as the previous victims', and immediately sent agents and police over to both residences. They found Barham in the process of tying up Rachel Cassidy, one of two possible targets.

All in all, Morgan thought that night as he removed his contacts from his tired eyes, the case ended better than expected.

They decided to stay and rest at the hotel for one last night before boarding the jet back home to Quantico in the morning, Hotch wanting the team to get some decent rest in a bed rather than the seats of the FBI issued jet. Morgan could not argue with that logic, and he more than appreciated it as he walked out of the bathroom, rubbing at his sore shoulder. Barham had tried to run earlier, and was only stopped when Morgan took a flying leap and tackled the man as he tried to make his escape through the backyard. Morgan suffered a hard fall on his shoulder; luckily, he was only bruised, nothing broken or dislocated.

He was heading over to his go-bag to pull out his sweats to sleep in when there was the sound of knuckles rapping on the door. Confused as to who on earth could be visiting him at 11:27 in the evening, he walked to the door. The thought that perhaps this was case-related struck him, and he hurriedly opened the door.

Reid was standing there, looking almost awkward standing in the hotel hallway in his flannel pajamas bottoms and white tee, his dirty-blonde hair slightly tousled as he ran a quick hand through it. He cleared his throat and looked up from the bottle of contact solution in his hand, catching Morgan's eyes. And he visibly froze.

He was wearing his glasses.

His contacts were gone.

Morgan could only stare into Reid's eyes in a type of shocked fascination as one of his irises, a mocha brown eye, _Morgan's _eye, disappeared, and was replaced with a deep green shade, leaving behind a twin set of emerald pools. The same emerald color that had painted Morgan's iris since he was 18.

And that was it. There was no fanfare, no streamers, no fireworks. There wasn't even Ashton Kutcher crashing through one of the multiple doors of the hotel hallway screaming, "You just got Punk'd!" There was just two men left staring at each other, eyes wide, with their birth colors having returned to them, and the revelation that they had just found their soul mate in each other.

Morgan felt as though his heart was going to literally burst open his rib cage, it was beating so hard. He was rendered completely speechless, forced to watch helplessly as Reid stared at him with a slack jaw even though his mind was screaming to _react_. He watched in horror as Reid's eyes suddenly gleamed brighter under the fluorescent lights of the hall. He watched as Reid seemed to snap out of it as long last, rapidly glance down at the bottle in his hand, and come to the realization that he had arrived at Morgan's door for a reason.

"Uh, I just, uh," Reid stammered out, his voice catching. He coughed and swallowed, gingerly handing back the solution for Morgan to take. Morgan's hand reached out and took it back cautiously, his body acting on autopilot. "I just wanted to - to return this, I should- I should go. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

And then he was gone, swiftly turning and rushing back to his own room, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Reid reached his room just as Morgan finally regained his senses and tried to call him back. But it was in vain, and Morgan was left alone, staring down the hall where Reid had disappeared.

.

.

"Okay, spill," Garcia said, gesturing impatiently to a free chair by her desk. "What did you do to our resident genius?"

"Well good morning to you to, Baby Girl," Morgan drawled, a faux carefree tone in his voice as he sauntered into Garcia's den once the woman's pinching grip released his arm. "My, you're looking bea-_u_-tiful today."

"As much as I love when you shower me with the truth like that, I'd rather you weren't cute with me right now," Garcia snapped, pointing to her chair. "Sit."

Morgan sighed, slumping down on the leather rolling chair, Garcia following suit in the chair opposite him.

It had been four days since the incident outside of Morgan's hotel room. Morgan had fallen into a fitful sleep that night, tossing and turning, unable to forget the look on Reid's face. He looked so terrified, and for whatever reason, the fact that it had originated from Morgan hurt him more than anything. His mind was swarmed that night with thoughts about how to fix this with Reid, how to get him to listen and to talk to him. If anything, Reid was still his best friend, and he didn't want to lose him.

However, the following morning, Reid had managed to avoid being alone with Morgan, dodging him in the hotel lobby and staying close near Prentiss and JJ. He grabbed a ride with Hotch and Prentiss on the way to the airport terminal, and on the jet he remained close to the rest of the team, not even standing to go to the bathroom until they returned back to Quantico. It wasn't as though Morgan was willing to have this kind of conversation in front of their friends either way, but the avoidance stung all the same.

The next few days were no different. Reid steered clear of Morgan as though he were the plague, doing his damnedest to make sure that if he had to talk to the other man, he wasn't the only one interacting with him at all times, including Prentiss as much as possible in their conversations. He piggybacked the other team members on trips to the break room, lest Morgan try to corner him there. And to make matters worse, Reid had continued to wear his hazel contact lenses. Overall, that had to be what hurt Morgan most; that Reid would continue to hide himself from the truth, refusing to acknowledge that anything had changed between them even though everything was so laughably and irreparably different now.

Morgan knew his team were good at what they did, and that it was clear to them from the first day that there was something wrong with the two men. To their credit, they didn't press the issue, content though understandably worried when Morgan assured them (albeit a little unconvincingly) that things were going to be fine between them.

But though the profilers of the team didn't push for answers, that didn't stop the quirky technical analyst from dragging Morgan into her Bat Cave and demanding to know what was wrong. Morgan had honestly been expecting this confrontation a lot earlier.

"And what makes you think _I _did anything?" Morgan said in reply to her question.

Garcia's eyes flashed dangerously, a pair of soft cinnamon orbs behind red horned-rimmed glasses. Morgan felt a pang of jealousy toward her, and for all the people that did not have to deal with the burden of carrying the _heterochromia_ _iridis _ability. "I may not be a profiler, Derek Morgan, but that doesn't mean I don't notice things. Our baby boy has been skirting around you since you got back from California. Reid doesn't ignore people for no reason. You both were fine before you left, _so_," she said, leaning forward. "What happened in California?"

Morgan bit his lip irritably, quickly debating with himself. Garcia was definitely an excellent confidant, helping Morgan work through his problems time and time again throughout the years with a welcoming attitude, a ready listening ear, and a sharp wit to keep his spirits up. She was one of the few people he completely trusted, but he didn't know if he could trust her with this. She couldn't possibly understand about his dilemma; there were no strings or regulations controlling this part of her life, nothing bearing at the back of her mind that one day she was guaranteed to meet someone that she was destined to spend the rest of her life with. She would never understand, at least not with a unbiased perspective.

But with Reid's dismissive behavior and skillfully maneuvering around the topic of their discovery within each other, Morgan was growing desperate.

"Okay," he relented, slouching forward on his elbows resting on his knees. He took a deep breath and looked up, bracing himself for her reaction. "I haven't exactly been honest with you all, with pretty much everyone outside of my own family. See... I have the ability of _heterochromia iridis_."

As expected, Garcia's jaw dropped open in surprise. "_Really_?"

Morgan nodded. "I used to wear brown contact lenses to cover it up."

"Used to?" Garcia questioned, perfectly plucked brows pinched together in confusion.

"Yeah." Morgan sucked in his inner cheek as he carefully contemplated his next words. He sighed, preparing himself. "In California, I found out that Reid also has the ability. And, um, I'm not wearing the contacts anymore."

It took a short moment, but Garcia's brows shot up and her eyes widened in understanding as he realized the implication of Morgan's words. "Oh my God... _Oh _my _God!_"

"Yeah," Morgan repeated, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"You-" Garcia began, her mouth flapping open and closed as she struggled to find her words. "You and Reid are freaking _soul mates_? As in your other half, born for each other, Bella-and-Edward type _soul mates_?"

"Oi, woman," Morgan cut in, lip curling in slight disgust. "Don't go comparing this with freaking _Twilight_, alright? My situation is not nearly as messed up as that."

"Ignoring that for more pressing issues at the moment, Jesus _Christ_, Morgan!" Garcia said, tossing her hands up in exclamation. "So- so what happened? How did you guys find out? Is that why-"

"Pe-ne-lo-pe," Morgan interrupted, enunciating her name in exasperation. "One question at a time, okay?"

Garcia snapped her mouth shut and clasped her hands in her lap with a small huff, waiting with an air of forced patience.

"I found out that he had it on the jet ride over to LA, but we were both wearing colored contacts at the time, so there was no way to find out there," Morgan said. "His eyes were dry, I gave him some of my contact solution to soothe it. Once the case was solved, he came to my room the last night to return it, and neither of us had our contacts in. That's what happened, that's how we found out. A goddamn accident."

"You call finding your soul mate, regardless of how, an accident?" Garcia said.

"No, I didn't, I-" Morgan struggled to figure out how to clarify his words. "Look, neither of us were prepared for it. That's why we were even wearing those contact lenses in the first place. We weren't ready to know yet! It just felt like it was forced upon the both of us, you know?"

"Well, that's fate, isn't it?" Garcia shrugged. "Striking when we least expect it."

"I suppose so," Morgan reluctantly agreed, dropping his head into his hands. "Well, now Reid's been avoiding me since we found out, and I have no idea as to how to talk to him about this."

Garcia's previous feisty behavior seemed to deflate at her friend's distress, and with a small "tsk" she reached over and placed a soothing hand on one of Morgan's broad shoulders. "Yeah, Boy Wonder isn't one to talk much about things like this." She lightly tapped at where his hairline would be, catching his attention and making him look back up at her. "Derek, I have to ask... You're not freaking out about the fact that your soul mate is a man, right?"

A bark of startled laughter erupted from Morgan's throat, and he straightened up, Garcia's hand sliding off his shoulder. "Believe it or not... _No_. I mean, I always thought that whenever I did meet my soul mate, it'd probably be a woman, sure. But... It's _Reid_. I don't know." He shook his head, rubbing at the worry lines on his forehead. "It probably doesn't make any sense."

"Of course it does," Garcia answered, resting against the back of her chair with a gradual, sly grin. "You. _Love _him."

"... I'm sorry, what?" Morgan replied dumbly, blinking rapidly, unable to believe what had just come out of Garcia's mouth.

"Okay, maybe not so much 'love'," Garcia rectified with a small wave of her hand. "But you do care about him. A lot. And I'd like to think that when you did find out he was your soul mate, you already knew deep down that our own Dr. Spencer Reid is quite an amazing catch."

At Morgan's silence, she continued, "Reid is your best friend, and that's for a reason. He understands you, knows what makes you tick, what calms you down. He just _gets _you. And you do the same for him in return. You two, even without the whole soul mate thing attached, are incredible together. You make a great team. Trust me, you couldn't have bet on a better horse than the sweet, lovable young doctor that we've all come to love."

Morgan sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time, scratching at his temple. "I know," he muttered. "I know that. I feel like, given the circumstances, I'm extremely lucky with how things turned out. But Reid... I don't think he's altogether too thrilled with this."

Garcia moved forward and lightly smacked Morgan's forehead with an open palm. "Don't be idiotic," she scolded. "I'm sure Reid has no problem with you being his soul mate. You're a profiler, Morgan. I'm sure that's not the case at all. You'll see."

"I hope you're right, Baby Girl," Morgan mumbled.

"Please," Garcia scoffed. "Queen of All Knowledge, remember? I'm always right. Now, I want you to get your butt out of my office and prove me right once more."

"I'll try my best," Morgan grinned, feeling much better about the situation than he had before. He stood, still nervous, but now with a new-found determination to make things right with Reid. He leaned over and pressed a friendly kiss on Garcia's temple before straightening up and walking briskly toward the exit. "Thanks, momma!" he called over his shoulder.

"Thank me once you've got your man!" Garcia replied happily.

It had been near quitting time when Garcia had dragged Morgan into her office for her interrogation, so Morgan was not surprised to see the bullpen empty off all workers when he came back out, including Reid. Still, he couldn't help the small pang of disappointment he felt, hoping in vain that perhaps Reid thought he had gone home and opted to stay late, as he sometimes did.

He walked over to his desk and grabbed his go-bag, digging the keys to his truck out of the front pocket before picking it up and walking toward the elevator. The slow elevator ride to the parking garage, the short walk to the driver's door, he kept thinking about what he was going to say to Reid. Was this something that required a rehearsed speech? Or should he just say what comes to him at the moment and hope that it's from the heart?

He still didn't know as he turned the key in the ignition, pulled out of the parking space, and began the drive to Reid's apartment.

.

.

Reid's apartment complex was not difficult to find, regardless of the fact that Morgan himself had never visited there before. He knew all of his team members' addresses by heart in case he ever had to go there in an emergency, and damn it if this wasn't an emergency.

He parked his truck as close as he could in one of the designated parking spaces in front of the building and hurriedly climbed out, quickly locking it in his haste, as he noticed a resident walking into the building. He grabbed the door before it shut, knowing that there was a chance Reid wouldn't buzz him in, and strode inside.

He spotted the stairwell and made his way over, jogging up the stairs and taking two at a time to get to the second floor. His heart was beating hard in his chest, mostly to do with the fearful anticipation of what he was about to do. His palms felt sweaty and clammy the closer he got to Room 23, and he wiped them roughly on his denim pants. And then he was there, standing right in front of Reid's door.

He winced at realizing that he was scared. Derek Morgan, former cop of Southside Chicago and member of their bomb squad, was _scared_. His hands were quivering at his side, and he slowly curled them into fists. His jaw set, his muscles tense, he raised a hand and quickly rapped his knuckles against the door before he chickened out completely.

There was a moment of quiet, then the faint sound of muffled footsteps sounded from behind the door. Morgan barely had time to compose himself into a more calm manner before the door opened, revealing Reid.

Recognition flickered across Reid's face before it sunk into a small frown, as though genuinely confused as to why Derek Morgan was standing at his doorstep. "Morgan," Reid muttered in greeting.

"Can we talk?" Morgan said, ignoring all formalities at the moment and cutting straight to the point. Reid looked surprised though expectant of Morgan's bluntness, and after a short moment dipped his head in a short nod. He stepped back to allow Morgan to pass through, and shut the door behind him.

"Can I get you some coffee or something?" Reid said, turning to face his companion, awkwardly wrapping his arms around his torso and hunching his shoulders inward. Morgan felt horrible about Reid's obvious discomfort, even more so at knowing at it was him that was causing it. He nodded absentmindedly, going for anything that would buy him a little bit of time to think of what to say.

"Sure. Coffee sounds great."

Reid nodded in affirmation and slowly walked into his kitchen.

Morgan took this time to examine his surroundings. He had never been inside of Reid's home before, but even without knowing who's apartment this belonged to, he knew that he would have been able to identify this as where Reid lived without much effort. It just screamed everything the young doctor was. The paper from that morning was folding on the dining room table, the answers of the crossword scrawled in ink, and a mug of half-drunk, stale coffee next to it. The entrance area was kept obsessively neat, as would be the rest of the apartment, Reid's converse and dress shoes all lined up in a perfect row by the wall, his jackets hung carefully on the coat-tree propped by the corner.

Morgan trudged further into the apartment, reaching the living area. There was no TV, unsurprisingly. Just two large bookcases that reached to the ceiling, completely jammed packed tight with books. A long, cushy sofa was in the middle of the room, a small, wooden coffee table in front of it. A thick textbook with a straining spine was lying prone on the sleek table surface, open to a specific page. Judging from the indentation on the couch, Reid had been reading before Morgan's arrival. The though of it brought a small smile to Morgan's face.

His tour of Reid's home was interrupted by the sound of Reid walking behind him, and he turned to see Reid carrying two coffee mugs, light wisps of steam flowing from the brim of each. He handed one to Morgan, who took it carefully. "I'm pretty sure that's how you take it," Reid said. "Two cream, one sugar, right?"

Morgan felt the ridge of his brows go up in wonder. He only remembered mentioning his coffee preference to Reid one time, when the younger agent had gone out for a coffee run after the coffeemaker in the break room had broken down yet again and had asked Morgan what he wanted. "Yeah. Thanks," he said, lowering his lips to take a cautious drink of the hot beverage.

Reid watched the other man carefully, his gaze scrutinizing, the cup of coffee in his hand momentarily forgotten. Morgan swallowed his sip and returned the stare. He bit back a remark of the hazel contacts still in place in front of Reid's irises, loathing the sight of them. "Listen, Reid," he began. "We need to talk."

Reid was still for a long while, unwavering in his stare and his posture stiff. Morgan could have sworn that the younger agent also stopped breathing and was about to express his concern until Reid finally reacted, blinking once and then slouching slightly in defeat.

"Yeah," Reid whispered. "Yeah, I know."

Morgan shifted his weight between his feet, struggling to find a place to start. He kept glancing into Reid's eyes, the pit of his stomach twisting unpleasantly and burning infuriatingly every time he did. After a moment of getting no where with what words to use, and the constant flash of hazel in his vision, he snapped, "Would you take those damn things out! It's just me here, alright?"

Reid flinched back at the growled demand, and quickly murmured a word of assent before turning and heading towards where Morgan assumed was the bathroom, placing his mug on the kitchen counter on the way. Once he disappeared from view, Morgan sighed, walking over and setting his mug next to Reid's. He ducked his head and closed his eyes, wearily pinching and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to snap at Reid like he just did, and he knew he was going to have to apologize for that. The last thing he wanted after everything that had happened was for Reid to be afraid of him. Morgan was not going to give him a reason for that. But seeing hazel rather than the true emerald color was too much, especially since it was in the privacy of Reid's own home.

Slow footfalls indicated Reid's return, and Morgan looked up. The doctor approached him warily, contacts gone, his emerald eyes watching him behind thick glasses. Though relieved at seeing Reid's true colors staring right back at him once more, he felt terrible at the timid attitude Reid had taken on.

"Reid, I'm sorry," Morgan said, dropping his hand from his face, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Reid gave the tiniest of shrugs. "Yeah, it's alright."

"No, no it's not," Morgan said, taking a step closer to Reid. The other man didn't back away, which Morgan took as a good sign. "We really do need to talk. So I'm just going to point out the obvious here and then we'll go from there. Okay?"

At Reid's agreeing nod, he continued, gesturing at the space between them, "You and I. We're soul mates. And you took off and have been avoiding me since the night we found out."

Reid had the good grace to look ashamed at the accusing tone Morgan involuntarily took on, looking away and taking his upper lip between his teeth. "Why are you here, Morgan?" he asked.

"Oh, a number of reasons," Morgan said, unable to hold back the tinge of snark in that statement. "You're my friend. I was worried. You've been ignoring me all week and I want to know _why_."

Reid took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering shut. "It's complicated-"

"How is this complicated?" Morgan cut in, and goddamn it, but he couldn't help but raise his voice as he went on. "This seems pretty straight forward to me! We both have the ability, we saw each other, and we _knew_. And then you ran, so I don't think that it's complicated to just say that you're unhappy with who-"

"I never said I was unhappy!" Reid said, eyes snapping open.

"You never said _anything_, Reid, that's the point!" Morgan said exasperatingly. "You just ran! You didn't even give me a chance to talk to you about this whole thing."

"Okay, I'm sorry, alright?" Reid replied, almost shouting at this point. Then his defensive posture sunk in on itself, and he dropped his head into his hands, slipping his fingers underneath his spectacles and rubbing at his eyes.

Morgan sighed, dropping his voice level into something gentler. "Reid? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Reid said, his voice slightly muffled behind his hands. He dropped them to his sides with a light slap across his thighs, puffing out a large huff of air that caused his wayward fringe to blow off to the side. "How come you're not mad right now?"

Morgan frowned, slightly taken aback by Reid's statement. "Why would I be mad? I mean, yeah, I'm just a tad irritated right now, but not really mad. Do I have a reason to be?"

Reid shrugged once more, crossing his arms over his chest again, scratching at his left bicep with his right hand.

"Did I do or say anything to make you believe that I was mad?" Morgan pressed. He took another step forward, and when Reid still didn't make a move to back away, he took another. Reid swallowed at Morgan's slow approach, his lips pursing together and his brows furrowing in nervous thought.

"You didn't really have to," Reid replied. "We both weren't prepared to find out who our soul mates were. Then we both discover that we each had the _heterochromia iridis _ability, and not a week later we find out that it was actually us. Years of working together, and it's _us_."

"Yeah," Morgan said, raising a shoulder and shaking his head. "So?" He kept walking forward, his footsteps thudding lightly against the hardwood floor underneath his gym shoes.

Reid practically threw his hands away from his midsection and up into the air in his sudden annoyance, scoffing bitterly. "Oh come _on_, Morgan! You hardly rate a score on the Kinsey Scale! You're not _gay_. You probably assumed right from the moment you discovered that you had this ability that your soul mate would be a woman, so why on earth _would _you be happy to find out that it's _me_?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Morgan said, continuing to stalk forward.

"Oh, a number of reasons!" Reid exclaimed, echoing Morgan's earlier words. "I'm a _guy, _for one! And besides that, I'm lanky, I'm gawky, I'm hardly what you would call an attractive person. I'm socially inept, have autistic tendencies, and am a walking dictionary and encyclopedia of facts and statistics most people cannot even begin to _comprehend _that I tend to ramble on about like I'm rambling now. And I have severe trust and abandonment issues, and a high risk of developing schizophrenia in my future. Take your pick which is the most revolting, the point is that I'm a _freak_, so _why_-"

"Stop that!" Morgan cut in with a vicious snarl, close enough to Reid now to grab his shoulders firmly and push him harshly against the nearest wall, resisting the urge to shake the idiocy right out of Reid's mind. His chest was burning, a mix of bewilderment and fury at the prospect that Reid could so very easily put himself down. That he could take even the best aspect of his character and turn it into a flaw. He couldn't stand it.

Reid's mouth stretched out into a pitiful frown, face pinched in slight pain from the pressure that Morgan's fingers were adding to the tender flesh of his shoulders, regarding Morgan with sad eyes. "Face it, Morgan. We may be soul mates, but how could you ever want someone like me?"

"Now, you quit that," Morgan whispered, his words coming out in a rush of breath, like he had just run a marathon before speaking. He felt his jaw wobble, whether it was from anger or tears, he didn't know. "Pretty Boy, there's no denying that you are smart, so if I ever hear something that _stupid _come out of your mouth again, I swear I won't hesitate to beat the shit out of you."

It was an empty threat, they both knew that. But Reid still offered a quick smile in response to Morgan's words before it fell again, leaving the two men to stare at each other for a few moments before Morgan remembered himself and slowly released his hold on Reid, stepping back out of Reid's personal space.

He caught the flash of emerald watching his every move, and he surprised himself when a thought hit his mind, and he chuckled, raising a hand to rub his chin.

Reid raised a curious brow. "Uh, what's so funny?"

"I just got to thinking," Morgan began, the former rage he felt quickly evaporating in light of his newest discovery, and he smiled warmly at the man before him. "I've seen that emerald iris of yours every single time I looked into the mirror, every morning and every night, whenever I changed my contacts since I was 18. And I just noticed right now..."

He approached Reid once more, catching the slight movement of Reid mindlessly bracing himself against the wall, jaw set at having his bubble invaded by Morgan once more. Morgan just kept smiling, cautiously placing a cupped palm on Reid forehead as if he were checking his temperature, and brushed his fringe back. Reid's loose bangs were pushed up towards his scalp and out of his face, unveiling the pair of two glittering, green eyes, darting between each of Morgan's own.

"I just noticed how beautiful they really are," Morgan finished almost inaudibly.

Reid's throat trembled, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily as he swallowed, his breathing hitched and soft. A dark flush appeared on Reid's face, spreading to his ears and down his neck, and the genius turned his head to avert Morgan's gaze. Morgan narrowed his eyes and gently took Reid's chin in his grip, firmly turning his head back to face him.

"I want you to listen to me," Morgan said, assuring that Reid's focus was completely on him before going on, "Yes. I may not be gay. I may not be attracted to men, and I may have believed that I would have ended up with a woman. Okay? I'll admit that. But I never once was revolted by the idea that it's you that's meant for me."

Reid was listening with rapt attention, emotions swimming across his features, the more prominent being the fearful kind of hope that was originating from Morgan's words. He looked almost too scared to even believe that this was even happening, that Morgan was actually suggesting what he was suggesting. Morgan decided to put those fears to rest.

"I want this," Morgan said firmly, leaving no room for doubt in his voice. "You understand me? I _want _this. I want to give this a try, and I want this to work. And I believe that it can and _will _work, because it's us. I may not have fallen for men before, Dr. Reid, but I can definitely fall for you."

Tears were glimmering in Reid's eyes now, his sclera turning steadily more bloodshot and he blinked, causing a few stray tears to slip down involuntarily down his face. Morgan raised his hand to cup Reid's cheek, his thumb wiping away them away. Reid exhaled a sobbing breath.

"You're serious?" Reid whispered thickly, looking so _relieved, a_nd Morgan relaxed significantly at Reid's overall reaction. He hadn't been disgusted nor disappointed. It appeared as though Reid had wanted this to work out as much as he did, if not even more. "You actually... This isn't just you feeling obligated because of..."

Morgan shook his head. "I'm not doing this because it's written in the stars that we have to be together, or whatever metaphor you want to use to describe this. I'm doing this because I really do want you, Reid. But I need to know, do _you _want this? Cause neither I or this arrangement will force you to do anything that you don't-"

"Yes!" Reid blurted out, nodding vigorously, more tears trailing down his cheeks. He drew out a long, shaky exhale, his lips quivering into a watery grin, his eyes shining with unrestrained happiness, causing Morgan's smile to widened that much further. "Yes, I do want this. God, I want this, I really, _really _do."

A wave of hysterical elation crashed through Morgan, racking his insides with hot euphoria that very nearly caused his knees to buckle with the force of it. He felt like there was a permanent smile on his face, beaming brightly at the man in front of him, this precious treasure of a man. A short laugh bubbled out of his throat before he could stop it, the warm timber of it echoing in the otherwise silent apartment, and causing a flash of surprised delight to pass through Reid's face.

"Good," Morgan responded, still grinning. "Good. And Reid?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't ever want to hear you talk about yourself in that way every again. You understand me?" Morgan said, calming himself down enough for the seriousness of his request to shine through.

Reid paused, and then slowly nodded. "Okay," his voice croaking with tears, sniffling and reaching to take Morgan's wrist in his hand. "Okay."

It was then, in the midst of their following silence, that the closeness of their proximity became obvious to Morgan. Very obvious. Somehow, during their conversation, Morgan had shifted even closer to Reid, their brows nearly touching, their noses lightly brushing. Morgan could feel the plastic frame of Reid's glasses poking at his cheekbone, but he ignored it for the sake of observing their owner. He could feel Reid's hot breath on his mouth, the puffs of air increasing in rate as Reid's breaths began to turn erratic and uneven. The smile gradually disappeared from his face, left with a somber expression, and his eyes flickered down to Reid's lips.

He could feel Reid's heartbeat pounding underneath the hand that still had Reid's jaw in its grip, his index finger stroking past the pulse point. He could feel Reid begin to tremble like before, but with apparent anticipation rather than fear or anger.

"Morgan?" Reid's whisper cut through Morgan's mind, and he was brought back into the present. Morgan blinked, reaching a conclusion.

"Spencer," he muttered, trying out how Reid's name sounded on his tongue. It rolled off easily, despite the fact that Morgan and Reid had stuck to surnames when addressing each other ever since they were first introduced. Reid's eyelids slid shut, and Morgan felt a shudder go throughout Reid's body. "I want to try something."

Reid opened his eyes again. He understood, as Morgan knew he would. Morgan waited patiently, unwilling to proceed until Reid deemed himself comfortable with the situation.

A few heartbeats passed, and then Reid nodded. Morgan offered a brief moment of suspense before he leaned in that last inch between their mouths, his eyes fluttering shut in sheer bliss as his lips finally, _finally _made contact with Reid's. The younger man exhaled deeply through his nostrils, removing his hand from Morgan's wrist and instead curling his fingers around the back of Morgan's neck, inviting him in further. Morgan went from cupping Reid's jaw to bunching the collar of Reid's dress shirt between his fingers, the other hand splaying across the back of Reid's skull, pulling him even closer. Reid's glasses were pressing up against his cheek, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

They kissed slowly, savoring the feel and the movement of the other's lips. Morgan gave a small start when it was actually Reid to make the move to deepen the kiss, gently licking a stripe across Morgan's bottom lip. Morgan groaned and obliged immediately, parting his lips and coaxing Reid's tongue into his mouth.

The kiss rapidly turned heated after that, as Morgan took another step and pressed Reid's body flushed against his, effectively trapping the doctor between the wall and Morgan. Reid gave no sign of protest, only offering a low gasping moan and wrapping his arms firmly around Morgan's neck. Their mouths moved in tandem, giving and taking pleasure in equal parts. They sunk heavily into the kiss, licking, nipping, sucking at each other's lips.

_**Definitely **__worth the wait,_ Morgan thought. His faith had been shaken time and time again, his beliefs scattered all over the place, but Morgan deducted that if there was a heaven out there, it had to be this, right here. He never wanted to stop kissing Spencer Reid.

The intensity of it all was enough to nearly make Morgan's head spin with dizziness. Or perhaps that was the lack of oxygen that was becoming more and more evident.

They parted with a loud smack of their lips, each panting lightly as they caught their breath, and each grinning like fools. Reid's glasses were slightly knocked off center, lopsided off the side of his nose and smudged, and his mouth was red and shining with spit. They remained in close contact, neither willing to remove their hold on the other. Morgan sighed and pressed his brow to Reid's.

"Oh yeah," Morgan breathed, placing another small, chaste kiss on Reid's lips. "I could get used to this."

Reid beamed.

.

.

It was around ten in the evening, and Penelope Garcia looked up from her Twitter feed as her cell buzzed with a text. Head tilted and lower lip jutted out in befuddlement, she reached over and took the device in her hand, unlocking the phone.

She quickly scanned the screen. When she was done, she clutched her phone to her bosom, a barely subdued squeal escaping her as she bounced in her chair in gleeful excitement. Grinning widely, she reread the text.

_Morgan: So now since I can, thanks Baby Girl!_


End file.
